


Every Me and Every You

by ladyofbrileith



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Bloodplay, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Het and Slash, M/M, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-01
Updated: 2012-10-01
Packaged: 2017-11-15 09:54:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/526010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofbrileith/pseuds/ladyofbrileith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thunderstorm outside. Naked Original vampires inside. A bowl of fresh blood. A vampire-artist with a paintbrush. Combine carefully. </p>
<p>[Mostly just PWP/Relationship exploration]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Me and Every You

  
_**Carve your name into my arm.** _   
_**Instead of stressed, I lie here charmed.** _   


**Placebo "Every Me and Every You"**

 

The stretches of skin surrounding him were stunning in their perfection, Klaus thought, running his fingers lightly up one, tracing the line of taut muscle, feeling the cool silkiness under his fingertips. A shiver made the skin tremble, and he chuckled, ducking his head to nip playfully at the curve of a hip. That drew a lazy sound of protest—or maybe it was encouragement—and in response, he just nipped once more before reaching across to tease fingertips up a delicate feeling spine, eliciting a little hum of approval from the bed’s third occupant.

“Don’t tell me you two are tired already.”

“Don’t tell me you’re not,” Elijah responded, and Klaus looked up to find his brother watching him, propped up on his elbow.

His hair was deliciously mussed, and Klaus shifted up to brush strands of it out of his eyes, tucking it back. “Satisfied, mayhap, for the moment. But not tired.”

“I’m not moving ‘til sunset,” Rebekah declared from the other side of Elijah, her voice muffled by the pillow. “At least. Maybe not ‘til morning.”

A pout tugged at Klaus’s lips, and Elijah smiled, reaching to slowly trace over his brother’s lips. “Don’t pout, sweetheart. She’ll rally soon enough.”

Klaus nipped at his fingertip. “And you?”

Elijah stretched, a rueful smile curving his lips. “You’re insatiable. And I need a bit.” He reached for Klaus, tugging him down to settle against him.

Klaus let a soft sigh that was almost contentment escape as he twisted a bit to nuzzle at Elijah’s neck. Elijah’s fingers were in his hair, his skin cool against Klaus’s own. Outside he could hear the storm still raging, wind blowing hard enough to sweep down the chimney and make the fire that warmed the room sputter and dance. It was possible he dozed, but more likely that after a short time of contentment he was bored and restless.

It was a common pattern.

Elijah’s hand had stilled, twisted in his hair, but his breathing was slow and even, his heartbeat even slower, indicating he slept. The equally slow sounds from Rebekah said she did, as well.

For a moment, he regarded them, letting his gaze drift over their skin once more, slightly breathless at their perfection. Pure vampires, both of them—it was right they were so. The scents of smoke and sex seemed to have deepened in the room while they rested, settling over them like the furs that had been pushed to the floor. He felt a stirring in his gut, a shaft of warmth running through him.

With the shiver of desire came the seeds of an idea, and he smirked a little to himself, pulling away from Elijah slowly. His brother stirred, but didn’t wake, merely curling closer to Rebekah in Klaus’s absence. Heedless of his own nakedness, he slipped quietly out of the room to get the things he needed.

*   *   *

Elijah woke to the tickle of something soft and wet over his chest. Confused, but not quite fully alert, he wondered if one of the mouser cats had gotten into the room. They wandered the castle freely, and liked to curl up in the rushes and furs when allowed, but they weren’t usually so bold as to get so close to the siblings. Unimpressed by their powers, they might be, but they weren’t unaware of who were the larger predators within the walls.

The scent of fresh blood caught him before he could go too far with the thought, and he slowly opened his eyes, blinking a bit at how bright it was, respectively. Klaus was sitting next to him, staring at his chest with a frown of concentration. Settled between his legs against his half hard cock was a bowl; in his hand was one of his beloved paintbrushes, glistening in the light of the torches he’d brought in to give him better light.

A droplet hovered on the end of it, reading to fall, but he swept his fingertip over it, pulling it away red and licking it clean.

_Blood_ , Elijah’s brain supplied.

A swift glance around the room found one of the maids—Mary, he thought, or maybe Bess—kneeling by the hearth cradling her wrist which was wrapped in a bloody cloth. He started to push back up to sitting, frowning.

“What…”

Klaus cut off his question with a sharp order. “Don’t move. Lie back again.”

It was the tone he took when he expected to be obeyed, and rarely with Elijah, but the elder brother found himself obeying even so, lying back on the bed. It was then he remembered the tickling sensation and glanced down to find the beginnings of some design painted on his skin.

Arching an eyebrow at his brother, he asked dryly, “Just how bored did you get?”

Klaus spared him a glance that sparkled with a wicked amusement. “I’m experimenting in expression.”

“And ran out of canvas?”

“You do keep on about how it’s cluttering up the third floor.”

“I am fairly certain I never used the word ‘clutter.’ I merely asked if you wanted to hang any of them where others might enjoy them.”

Klaus waved a hand in his direction both dismissive and imperative. “Shh…I’m trying to see what’s there…”

Elijah subsided with a sigh of fond exasperation, lying back and closing his eyes once more. This time, when the brush slipped over his skin, though, he was fully aware. Mary’s—or Bess’s—blood was still warm, and the miniver tail hairs that made up the brush were as soft as a feather. Klaus was careful, exacting in where he placed the brush, how he ran it over his skin, working to create something perfect.

Holding still as he’d been bid was a sweet torture, biting back the whimper difficult when the brush slipped from his chest to the planes of his abdomen, creating patterns in the smooth ridges of muscle and skin. Eyes still closed, he missed the wicked grin Klaus shot him, but it was impossible to miss the warm slip of the brush down the length of his cock.

It was also impossible not to twitch at that, and violently—more than enough to jar Rebekah awake, and she rolled from her stomach to her side, shooting her brothers an annoyed look. “I was having the most…”

Her words trailed off as she saw what Klaus was doing, eyes going a little wide. “Oh…” The sound was really just the exhaling of a sigh as her gaze took in the runes arranged in a pattern that swirled them together until they made little sense, but were stunningly beautiful.

Klaus tsked. “Now, look what you made me do,” he chided Elijah, dropping the brush in the bowl and running his finger along the line he’d painted on Elijah’s hardening cock, making it harden even further. “It’s all smudged…” He cast a look over at Rebekah, lips curving in a conspiratorial smile. “Now that you’re awake, sweetheart, maybe you can help me? Clean that up, would you, so I can start again?”

Fully awake now, Rebekah returned his smile and chuckled, shifting her position until she could duck her head and delicately lick the blood off Elijah’s cock. Elijah tried back the moan, but failed, and arched himself up toward Rebekah’s mouth as the sound escaped despite his best efforts.

“What did I say about moving?” Klaus’s voice was little more than a purr, a rumble with playful—Elijah hoped—menace underneath.

Settling back on the bed, near rigid with growing need and the attempt to stay still, Elijah opened his eyes to watch his sister work. The blood was gone, but still she ran her tongue over him, fingers lifting him as he grew heavy. Her mouth slid over him, teasing back his foreskin to swirl her tongue over the head of his cock, making him moan all over again. Her tongue found a rhythm, her hand slid over him smoothly, and she added just the right amount of suction to make him have to twist his fingers in the bedding that still remained actually on the bed. He was so damn hard, aching with it, heat coiling inside of him and demanding a release. Another moan slipped out, this one more pleading.

“I think that’s enough,” Klaus said dryly, and Rebekah drew back obediently, having caught on to the game intuitively, though a little pout lingered on her lips. Klaus leaned across Elijah’s body to tease a kiss across her lips, tasting Elijah there with a hum of approval.

When he pulled back, he glanced back down and shook his head at the way the runes had blended together with Elijah’s twisting. His tongue clicked, and he shook his head.

“Would you like a clean canvas, brother?” Rebekah asked, voice a little husky, gaze downcast, though the smirk on her lips was anything but demure.

“I think that might be best,” he agreed with a sigh, settling back.

Rebekah leaned in to run her tongue over Elijah’s stomach with a hum of pleasure, tasting the salt of his sweat and the copper of the maid’s blood and the sweetness and musk underneath that was just Elijah. Tilting her head a bit, she cast Nik a glance and another smirk. “I could use some help. If you please…”

Klaus watched her for a moment, then set the bowl aside, so he could lean in, and Elijah didn’t even bother trying to stay still as both of their mouths ran over him, tongues teasing—rough here, gentler and savoring there. He writhed beneath them, hands reaching for them, uncertain whether he sought to push them away or pull them closer. This time it was Klaus’s mouth around him, strong and sure and pushing him back up to the peak he’d barely come down from. When he seemed near it, though, Klaus pulled back with a laugh, pushing Rebekah back gently, as well, and surveyed the bare expanse of Elijah’s torso again.

Elijah was breathing hard, aching from how hard his cock was, desperate for some release, and the loss of their mouths was almost as much torture as their warmth had been on him.

Klaus rocked back on his heels and sighed. “I can’t paint while he’s wet. All it will do is run.”

Elijah wanted to suggest something else he could do with his hands until he was all dry again, but a look from Klaus said he wasn’t getting it. His gaze flicked from his brother over to where Rebekah knelt, hands resting on her legs which did nothing to cover the curls between them. Looking back over at Klaus, Elijah smiled slowly.

“There’s another option…”

Rebekah’s head snapped up at that, and Klaus smirked. “So there is…” His head tilted, as his gaze met hers. “Lie down, sister…”

“I don’t think that’s…” She started to protest, not knowing if she’d be able to stand it half as well as Elijah had—and he’d nearly broken under it, albeit in a very good way.

“Lie down.” There was no denying that was an order.

Rebekah swallowed, and stretched back out on the bed, while Elijah shifted to sitting, smirking a bit, as well.

Klaus glanced at his bowl once more and sighed. “Hold there a moment.”  Looking over at the girl, he beckoned. She stumbled a bit getting up, but she came back over. Trembling slightly, she extended her arm. He gave her a bit of a smile, unwinding the binding to reveal the wounds he’d made earlier. “Just a bit more, lovely,” he murmured.

Elijah had tensed and Klaus sent him a look. “I’ll not hurt her, brother. Much.” Elijah had pointed out a century or two before that if Klaus kept killing the maids they were going to have a devil of a time getting new ones, or keeping people from talking, and talking would lead to rumors and rumors would catch Mikael’s attention.

Klaus hadn’t killed more than a maid every couple of decades since, and he thought that was fair to Elijah’s concerns.

He bit the girl’s wrist again, reopening the wounds more deeply, making her cry out and shudder. She knew well enough not to pull away, though, so she stayed where she was as he got the blood flowing once more with almost gentle suction, before pulling back and squeezing to wring it out of her and into the bowl.

She was pale when he was done, but still standing and he waved her away to go get Cook to look at it and give her whatever it was they gave the girls to eat who’d serviced the family that day.

Elijah’s expression had shifted a little, and Klaus sighed, casting Rebekah a slightly pained glance which she returned with a roll of her eyes. Klaus slid close to Elijah, pulling Elijah into him and kissing him hard, careful of the bowl of blood as he shared the remnants on his lips and tongue.

It was enough, and Elijah yielded, as he always did, melting into his brother’s arms, kissing him back with all the hunger Klaus and Rebekah had created. Klaus let his fingers drift lightly over Elijah’s chest, downward across his stomach to curl lightly around his erection and give it a stroke or two, the better to distract him from any moral qualms that might spoil the fun. When he had coaxed a moan out of him, he pulled away and moved around the bed to settle on the other side of Rebekah.

Elijah stretched out next to her, propped up on one elbow and watched while Klaus looked her over. It was a strange mix of desire and distance, the artist poking out behind the man, despite the fact that he was as hard as Elijah. Pushing back the urge to just push one of them to the bed and fuck the hell out of them, he studied Rebekah’s skin as if it really were the canvas he’d been warmly contemplating when he came up with the idea.

Rebekah’s nerves were stretched taut by the time the brush touched her skin. Elijah’s fingers played over her scalp, and she could feel the press of his body close, but not nearly close enough. When Nik made the first stroke, she gasped, twitching, and heard his little hum of disapproval.

“You have to lie still.”

Willing herself into stillness, Rebekah gave a little nod, and Nik went back to work. She couldn’t tell what he was doing, but a glance at Elijah’s face, rapt attention following each brush stroke, eyes a little dark, told her it must look good. She could feel the beat of his heart where his chest rested against her shoulder, and she focused on that, especially when Nik’s brush decorated her nipples, dragging slowly around them, outward.

Twisting spiral strokes across her stomach had her whimpering. When his fingers brushed between her legs, she parted them eagerly, but his brush slipped along the inside of her thigh instead of her heated core. She wanted to beg, but that wouldn’t get her anywhere with Nik until he was ready.

Since he’d learned that trick from Elijah, she had no recourse at the moment.

Klaus slowly traced the warm and wet brush down over her, glancing up now and then to make sure it still looked right. He was aware of her shallow breathing, her little whimpers and moans, very aware of the scent of her perfuming the air the more wet she got, and even more aware of Elijah’s fixed gaze watching everything he did. He didn’t paint for an audience usually, and it was both amazingly intimate and a touch unnerving.

There was no pretense of messing it up this time. He worked carefully, creating a masterpiece of flowers and vines that wound around her pale skin like scarlet tattoos. Ironically, a few thorns rested along the vines that traversed her inner thighs, and when he glanced up to meet his brother’s gaze, he saw amusement sparkling there and knew he’d done well.

When he finished the vines around her ankles, he shifted back up, sweeping up from her breasts to her neck. The brush was feather light over her pulse and her whimpers were music to his ears. With a sigh, he kissed her lips with the brush, painting them a darker hue.

Leaning down, brushing her hair aside, he murmured, “Don’t lick.”

Elijah watched Klaus work with both amazement and ever aching need. The art going into the painting was exquisite: delicate and intricate it covered Rebekah like a garland. It seemed almost a shame to mess it up, no matter if he could feel the ache in his jaw yearning to do nothing more than run his lips and tongue over her.

He gave Klaus a curious glance when he seemed to be done, and his brother’s eyes were nearly as dark as his own. Klaus moved again, this time stretching out idly on his elbow near Rebekah’s hips.

“ _You_ may kiss her, brother.”

It was all the encouragement Elijah needed, and when his lips slid over hers, she moaned and met his tongue with her own as together they shared both the treat and at least a small outlet for the flames beneath their skin. Rebekah cried out sharply into his mouth, though, and Elijah pulled back, glancing downward to find Klaus idly painting between her legs, wet brush circling around and around her clit, then drifting further over her lips, then back again. He looked up at Elijah and gave him a wicked smirk.

“We’ll save that for last, hmm? I know how much you like to mix them…” After setting the bowl and brush aside, Klaus ran his fingers slowly up Rebekah’s leg, before looking back at Elijah. “You take that side, I’ll take this? I’d say we should spend some time admiring her, but…” If the blood dried, it wouldn’t be nearly as attractive _or_ delicious.

Elijah gave him a slow smile, kissed Rebekah one more time, letting her sit up to get a look at what Klaus had done, before pushing her gently back down on the bed, then glanced back at his brother. “You start from down there; I’ll start from up here?”

Klaus ducked his head and slowly dragged his tongue over Rebekah’s ankle. “Fair enough…”

She could move, at least, and Rebekah did, as Nik’s mouth traced a fiery path up her left leg, his tongue following the path of the vines and Elijah’s lips caressed her pulse neck, nibbling and licking before drifting lower. He paid particular attention to the line of her collarbone, then slipped to her right nipple. There, he lingered, sucking gently at it until every trace of blood was gone and she was aching so much it hurt.

They met at her hips, pausing for a kiss that made her groan to watch as they lingered above her core. Neither of them touched her there, though, despite the fact that she gave in and begged. Only when Nik had made it to her lips, leaving her left breast aching as much as the right, and Elijah had made it to the delicate bones of her ankles did they glance at each other again.

At Klaus’s smile, Elijah moved, urging Rebekah’s legs aside and settling between them. Blood and sex and heat met him there, traces of both he and Klaus’s desire from earlier, mingling with hers and the fresh blood. He moaned at the first taste, running his tongue slowly over her lips, cleaning her before concentrating on her clit.

Klaus watched, letting his fingers go back to teasing Rebekah’s nipples, tweaking her, ducking his head to suck there. He settled next to her for a bit and caught her mouth with his, kissing her deeply, pleased to still find Elijah there. He knew when Elijah slid his fingers into her by the way she arched, the bite to his lip that brought his own blood into play. She sucked at it greedily and he let her for a moment to watch Elijah play her.

Twisting on the bed with Elijah buried between her legs, she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, and Elijah…Elijah was magnificent, perfect especially when giving in to what he wanted like this.

Rebekah felt the heat building, spiraling upward until she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. She gave up any thought of being quiet and begged, and cried out and cursed in several different languages. Klaus’s laugh didn’t stop her; nothing did until Elijah’s tongue flicked over her just that one more time, and his second finger pressed deeply enough into her to hit that spot deep inside, and then she was shattering, coming apart at the seams, not aware of any boundaries of body or Earth. She sobbed with her release, fingers flying to Elijah’s hair as she spasmed around him.

Elijah gave her one final lick, then slid back up her body, his still between her legs. Normally, he’d wait, give her time to recover, recognizing how sensitive her skin was, but he didn’t care right now. He glanced at Klaus once, for permission, since it was his game, and getting it, he lined himself up with her and thrust into her with one savage motion, groaning as her body stretched to take him in, hot and tight and wet and holding him deep inside of her. She moaned, little sobs still there, and he knew he was pushing toward sensory overload, and he found he wanted to take her there.

Klaus watched them as they kissed, took note of the way Rebekah’s nails bit into Elijah’s skin, the curl of her leg around him, the way that, after a couple of moments, her hips met the slow but hard pace their brother set. He’d be damned if he was going to just watch, though. Grabbing the pot of salve that sat by the bed, he moved around behind Elijah, slicking himself as he moved. With the painting set aside, he could focus on what he wanted, take it, have it. He didn’t give Elijah much more preparation than he’d given Rebekah before slamming into her, though he was a bit gentler about it as he pressed slowly and deeply into Elijah from behind.

Rebekah was certain she was going to come apart completely and they would never find the pieces. Her skin was still buzzing, shaking and shivering, but already being pushed back up again as she and Elijah moved together. Their tongues warred as his body pinned her to the bed, thrusts that would be punishing if she didn’t want them just like that. She felt the weight shift, the deeper press as he hit far inside of her, and cried out into her mouth. Eyes opening, she saw Nik there, behind him, hands on his hips and she moaned a bit at the sight.

Elijah had lost his ability to set the pace. Klaus filled him, and there was a flicker of welcome pain that dissolved into pleasure as he started to move. It was no use fighting against the pace Klaus set—they would do it his way or end up completely out of sync. It was another pattern that stretched across venues. He wasn’t thinking of that now, though, just falling into the rhythm, into Rebekah, back onto Klaus, again and again, and the pleasure was building up, his stomach tightening until he couldn’t breathe. A few more thrusts and the world ripped apart around him, he cried out into Rebekah’s mouth as he spilled into her, wave after wave of pleasure washing over and through him. He felt her body spasm around him again, heard her little keening sound, knew she’d peaked once more again, and felt that draw his out even further.

Klaus watched them, the way the moved, the way they moved with him. His gaze was hungry, sliding over the tableau, seeing his cock as it parted Elijah again and again, hearing the slap of bodies together. He felt it when Elijah came; saw Rebekah arch again, grabbed her leg to pull it higher and pressed a kiss to the inside of her ankle. The painting had given him something else to focus on, but the moment he put the brush aside, everything became wanton need. Elijah’s release nearly shattered him, but he was determined to hold out, and he did, if only for a few moments longer, taking Elijah, keeping the rhythm going into Rebekah past the point of bearing. When he came, he was quieter than the other two had been but it was no less violent for that, crashing through him and leaving him weak and spent in the aftermath.

His head dropped to Elijah’s back for a moment, his arm sliding around him to catch between his two siblings. The other ghosted up Rebekah’s side. When he managed to move, it was only to ease back and collapse on the bed beside them. Elijah shifted, as well, until he was back between Klaus and Rebekah, though still half draped over his sister. Klaus turned to wrap an arm around Elijah, fingertips resting on Rebekah, legs tangled with both of them.

There was no sound in the room save harsh breaths, the pounding of the rain, the crack of thunder, the popping of the fire. And soon, even that subsided from attention at least. This time, when Elijah and Rebekah drifted off, Klaus did more than just allow it; he finally joined them.


End file.
